How We Operate
by DramaticStarlet
Summary: You didn't even get to lick the bowl. BeckJade.


**HOW WE OPERATE.  
**beck&jade.

by katie.

some depressing bade that came to me whilst i was sitting on the bus and watching the snow fall. i'm not lying; i really am that cliché and cheeseballtastic.

completely and one hundred percent dedicated to **Lovely Amelie**. ava is amazing. :)

–

You aren't sure what you're fighting about today.

Something about how the heat's not on because he forgot to pay the bill again and the baby's cold and he better get his ass off the couch because you will fucking leave if he doesn't.

He glares at you as you stir brownie mix for the baby's preschool class. She's turning four on Sunday. She has pretty blue eyes and curly black hair and when she smiles she looks like sunshine. You love it when she smiles; it only ever rains in Seattle.

"You wanna leave? Do it. Take the baby and leave. I don't need you here," he hisses, throwing the baby's brand new doll against the wall. You spent weeks saving up for it, as an early birthday present. She never gets anything.

You look up from the bowl of brownie batter, letting out the breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Shut up, Beck. Shut up."

"I'm not fucking forcing you to stay here. If I'm such a LOW LIFE FUCKING LOSER, then get out. Find yourself a better life."

His words are like salt on an open wound.

You can remember when he wasn't a **LOW LIFE FUCKING LOSER. **When he loved you. When he loved the baby. When you lived in a pretty house in the suburbs. When sometimes he brought you flowers after work – the organic kind.

A little voice echoes behind you; _Mommy, can we go to the park?_

The look in his eyes makes your hands shake. _Mommy, please? Mommy, let's go. Mommy, I'm scared._

"You are a loser, Beck? You know why you're a loser?"

"I know why, Jade."

He knows what you're gonna do. You've done it before. So he's trying to be nice again. He's trying to be the Beck you see glimpses of sometimes, like when he runs his fingers through his hair or sings the baby to sleep.

You storm into the bedroom; his footsteps behind you are terrifying.

He isn't supposed to be scary.

"Jade. Stop. Now."

You rip the cheap mattress he bought off a "friend", revealing three bags filled with white powder. He calls it angel dust, but it's more like snow from hell.

"This is what makes you a loser, you irresponsible jackass," you hiss, snatching a bag and ripping it open so the powder descends onto the bed in a white dust.

"JADE!"

His voice breaks.

You throw the second bag against the wall so it explodes.

"Jade, fucking STOP! I need that!"

"You need this? You need this shit? You're supposed to need me!" 

You ignore the hot, wet streaming down your cheeks as you tear the third bag open. **COCAINE **drowns your fingers.

"FUCK, JADE!"

His scream sends you out the door in a flash. You lock the door behind you with the key he isn't allowed to touch. He pounds on it a few times, and then there's silence.

You know what he's doing.

Pulling an expired credit card from his back pocket. Trying to find a piece of foil. His hands are probably shaking as he tries to make neat little lines.

The baby stands in a corner, sniffling when you meet her eyes.

"D-daddy knocked the b-bowl off the c-counter."

Brownie batter is splattered on the floor, shards of glass surrounding it. You hate him.

You try to pick the glass up with your hands. He sold the vacuum last week.

Blood and chocolate drip down your arms.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Mommy, can we go to the park now?"

For a second, you contemplate telling her that you're leaving for good. You'll move back to California with Grandma and Grandpa. Mommy will get a good job and she'll have lots of pretty dolls to play with. Maybe she can stay over at Uncle André and Aunt Tori's house.

Daddy's just having a hard time right now. He'll join us sometime, baby.

That's what you want to tell her.

But instead, you say:

"I'll race you to the car."

–

uhh that was kind of all over the place and everything, but i haven't written in about three months so i guess this is sort of my transition fanfic.

but yeah. less depressing stories will come...just don't be too harsh about this one. Dx

**please review with more than "so sad" or "i loved it" because seriously, that's just not cool. :(**


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